Because that little boy was staring at his mother like she’d hung the moon and stars. He chugged his bottle, resting in her arms without a care in the world.
She closed her eyes and nodded. Then she straightened, shaking off the sadness. “This is not your typical Montana-style home. Not that I’ve been to many. But it’s different than anything I’ve seen driving through town. It’s very modern.”
“If you’re looking for traditional country homes, you’ll have to visit my parents’ place. Or Griff and Winn’s.”
“This suits you. The clean lines. The windows. The moody atmosphere.”
“Are you saying I’m moody?”
She smiled wider, the biggest victory in my day. “Look in the mirror and you’ll get your answer.”
“Well played, Ms. Ward.” I chuckled and stood, returning to the kitchen.
Memphis finished feeding Drake, then carried him to the island, watching as I worked. “Why did you choose this style of design?”
“When I was living in San Francisco, I was in this cramped, two-bedroom apartment with three total windows.
They all faced the brick building across the alley. Drove me nuts not being able to look outside and see farther than twenty feet.”
No trees. No grass. Not even the sky. For a Montana guy who’d grown up on a sprawling ranch, that apartment might as well have been a prison cell.
“When I moved home, I knew I wanted to live in the country, but I was selective about the property. My parents and Griffin suggested a part of the ranch, but I wanted to be closer to town. When the winter roads are shit, they don’t have to leave but I have to drive into town each day. I took my time, waiting for the right property to come on the market. While I waited, I lived in the caretaker’s apartment at the hotel.”
“Oh, I didn’t know there was a caretaker’s apartment.”
“Apartment is a generous term,” I said. “It was smaller than your loft. But it’s gone now. It was beside the kitchen, and when we remodeled, I took the wall out to use that space for the walk-in and my office.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “I’m guessing there were no windows in that apartment.”
“Not one. I was so tired of artificial light that when I bought this land and hired my architect, I told him that I wanted enough windows that I could see outside from every inch of the house. Even the bathrooms.”
Her eyes scanned the walls. “Now I have to see these bathrooms.”
I chuckled and pointed down the hallway. “There’s two down that way. And then one in my suite. Go ahead. I’ll finish this up while you check it out.”
She smiled and went off exploring, taking Drake with her.
I watched her disappear, my gaze raking down her slender shoulders to the soft sway of her hips. Her jeans clung to the curve of her ass and those lean, long legs. The tendrils of her hair swished against her waist.
Damn that hair. So often at work, she had it up in a ponytail. When I went to the loft, it was usually in a messy bun. It was longer than I’d realized. And all I wanted was to wrap those blond waves around my fist while I took her mouth. I wanted that hair spread on my pillow and threaded between my fingers.
My cock swelled. “Focus,” I muttered.
I finished with the pasta, making the sauce and adding the vegetables. Then I served us each a bowl, topping it with fresh parmesan and Italian parsley. I was refilling her wine glass as she passed the kitchen, heading toward my bedroom.
With napkins and forks out, I set up Drake’s car seat on the table so he could sit and watch us eat.
“Do you ever worry that someone will walk into your backyard and catch you in the shower?” Memphis asked as she returned to the room.
The living room, kitchen and dining room were all connected in an open concept. It meant that from the kitchen, I could still participate in conversations when I had people over.
“Nah. No one comes out here. I did have a deer check me out this summer.”
She giggled, another win, and put Drake in his seat. Then she took the chair closest to him and placed the napkin on her lap. “Thank you for this. For making me dinner and making me smile.”
“That’s two thank-yous since you’ve walked through the door.” She opened her mouth but I held up a hand to stop her.
“Don’t apologize.”
“Okay.” A laugh sparkled in those chocolate-brown eyes, the caramel flecks dancing. That laugh shot straight to my groin.
“Dig in.” I swallowed hard and picked up my fork, but it froze midair as she twirled a bite of pasta and lifted it to her mouth. When her head lolled to one side as she chewed and she closed her eyes, a look of sheer pleasure crossed her face.